


Bitter Rabbit

by teasmudge



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Demon Sex, Foreplay, Heavy Petting, M/M, Morning Sex, Morning Wood, Oral Sex, PWP without Porn, Porn, Power Play, Rough Sex, SebaCiel - Freeform, Sebastian's POV, Smut, Somnophilia, Teasing, early morning tea, it is earl grey what else?, stuffed rabbit kink?, violent urges during smex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teasmudge/pseuds/teasmudge
Summary: I stared, unable to disturb such a peace. Until of course, he shivered from his crystal sleep, barely awake enough to stretch his knee the slightest bit closer to his chest, effectively hiking his nightgown farther up his ass. And I granted myself one touch. One touch at the valley of his thigh, where I refused to let go and traced my fingertips up the cleft of his tailbone. Lingering, perhaps a littlestrongernear his slit. Strong enough to wake him, sending his body twisting toward me, arm still holding Bitter Rabbit’s paw. I could see the perk of his nipple through the pull of his clothes. Pinky, bitsy, nubby.Fluttering lashes and a tiny smack of puffy, sleeping lips.“Good morning, young master.”
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Comments: 20
Kudos: 231





	Bitter Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [m_aruka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_aruka/gifts).



> Inspired by M, who's peerless [art](https://baraag.net/@m_enfer/102781183768539199/) has been permanently imprinted into my brain.

Clothed in one of his flouncy nightgowns, my sweetest young master lay in the middle of his pillowy bed, back turned to me. His head slept against the crook of Bitter Rabbit’s giant belly, arms hugging onto one of the stuffed rabbit’s paws. The sun shone into the bedroom’s windows in clogs of brilliance, bathing his porcelain skin with gold. 

What would happen if I kissed him with any one part of my cruel afflictions? Fang through flesh, bone to bone. How peacefully might he rest then? I decided I might risk getting closer to that maddening sheen.

The tussle of sleep had the duvet riding low on his hip, even lower, as I carried it down the curve of his thigh, already pebbling from the briefest touch of air. Just under the thin voile of his nightgown unveiled his bare ass, round and permanently pink, a tease of his slit, and the pudge of his testicles, peeking at me through the gentle press of his legs, one cut over the other.

I stared, unable to disturb such a peace. Until of course, he shivered from his crystal sleep, barely awake enough to stretch his knee the slightest bit closer to his chest, effectively hiking his nightgown farther up his ass. And I granted myself one touch. One touch at the valley of his thigh, where I refused to let go and traced my fingertips up the cleft of his tailbone. Lingering, perhaps a little _stronger_ near his slit. Strong enough to wake him, sending his body twisting toward me, arm still holding Bitter Rabbit’s paw. I could see the perk of his nipple through the pull of his clothes. Pinky, bitsy, nubby.

Fluttering lashes and a tiny smack of puffy, sleeping lips. 

“Good morning, young master.”

Blue torpor gawking at me, unknowingly shying into my touch. “Tea,” he told me, lifting the back of his hand into his kitten face. It was only when I withdrew my knee from the edge of the bed that he noticed I was _there_ in the first place. There, where he found himself ache. His skin heated instantly, tinged with pink embarrassment and it vexed me when he turned away to seek refuge in the arms of Bitter Rabbit. 

_Look at me, young master._

“This morning we have Earl Grey from the slopes of Western Dimbula,” I bent, offering him cup and saucer.

He had yet to notice the state of his nightgown as he lifted his chin at me from over his shoulder. Impish legs, rustling themselves into the blanket. Impudent eyes, recollecting some sort of early morning strictness. 

“Bring it to me.”

As if he had mastered the art of beckoning a demon into his bed. As if he alone controlled the static that rippled between him and I. As if this was a game and it was now my turn.

_My dear young master. My lone king. As if you, blue as may be, could truly still my triumvirate knight._

I slithered myself alongside the curve of his spilling back much too quickly for even the speediest of butlers to deem acceptable. He felt soft against my stomach, softer still as he reached for his tea, propped up on his elbow, and slowly sipped the patience out of me. 

Thankfully for me, he grew tired of his side facing position and shimmed himself, slightly straighter, against the buttons of my shirt and gave himself away. His newfound press had more or less lowered his thigh, revealing a small blessing, hard and ruddy, particular only to morning. 

He met my eyes coyly, meaning to drag the covers, or his clothing, or anything at all over his cock, but couldn’t, for I imprisoned his free hand while the other one trembled with tea. 

My hateful young master could do nothing but glare.

I let go of his hand and reached to silence the shaking teacup, bringing his wrist, and cup, and saucer near his mouth. “Drink, young master.”

“You cannot be serious, Sebastian, let’s just get on with it already.” 

Did my selfish master mean to rush me, now that he’d had enough? The thought was tempting. I would make him suffer for it.

He made to put the teacup down. “Ah-ah,” I repositioned it, “it is morning. And you will have your tea.” I told him and he believed me. I removed my gloves and watched him drink.

His head tipped into Bitter Rabbit as I scrutinized his cock with my hand. I paused in time for him to continue sipping, folding his nightgown into a bib at his neck. Hunger swelled at my throat, catching fire through my stare and burning his skin pink. A blush of my doing. 

_How treacherous it felt to caramelize one’s food._

A pinch of index and thumb, just below the head, so that I could unstick his cock from his belly and wind it away from him, only to let go and hear it smack into his skin. Again, as he drank. Again, as he called for me. Again, as tea dribbled from his mouth. Again, as he called for me once more. 

Again, this time solely for me and the pleasures that be. 

“Did you enjoy your tea?” I simply had to know.

“I’ve had enough -” Again. “Yes,” he blew out a breath, “I enjoyed my tea.” My grin had grown so wide that I could have swallowed him whole.

I placed his barely-drunk tea on the nightstand and he chased the movement of my face back to him with his palms, bringing me in for a single, unchaste kiss. He tasted like a full night of sleep; tea on teeth. Lingering, “Have you had your fun?” he spoke against my mouth. 

Very funny, young master. My hand found the nape of his neck, bending him down and forward, pressing his nose into the base of my lap. “Hardly,” I explained.

He grumbled against me, hot breath seeping through my pants. Shaking his head and knowing just what to do. Tiny hands, reaching under my waistcoat to fiddle with the buttons of my trousers. Knowing just where to go. He sighed into my cock when he saw it, engorged and waiting, just for him. Suctioning around the head, laving his tongue on what he could, bless him. Breathing through his nose, holding it with his mouth, making me grunt. 

“On your knees, young master,” I asked kindly.

He came up for air, spluttering spit over my slit, simultaneously springing his ass into the air, spine permanently arched, wiggling his knees into proper, perfect place on the mattress. His nightgown fell onto my lap, flustering him from licking my cock. My bouncy young master sat on his haunches, raising linen over his head, ridding himself of clothes and I could only watch, suddenly mesmerized by the way his smudged, swollen lips matched the blush of his chest. 

His hands entrapped my wrist, bringing my finger into his mouth before I had anything to say about it. It was more perverse than my growl let on: the way that the edge of my nail scratched the place that my cock had just been. He suckled, puffy and glistening, and I curled into the back of his throat until he squelched, eyes closed shut. 

And then he grinned. Pout to leer, instantaneously. Where had he learnt that from? Not even the abyss of my lust could account for the stare of his mouth.

He ushered my finger, slick with saliva, down his body. _As if he was in charge._ To the shallows of his collarbone. _As if he had control over me._ To the enchanting nub of his nipple, one by one. _As if he had tamed a demon._ To the tempting bit of flesh below his belly button. _As if he was the one using me._ To the bulge of his drippy cock, “touch me as I touch you.”

He bent himself over my arm and returned his mouth to my cock, trapping my palm between his thighs, unconcerned for my reply.

An order. 

His ballsack, smooth and firm, dangled over my reach much too deliciously for him to keep quiet. That short, hiccup of a whine, vibrating over my cock, tit for tat. He was small enough for me to spread passed his bulge and circle the crinkle of his tiny little hole from the underside of his belly. 

I curved inside of him, hooking into him. The shallow press of my finger sent him arching further down my cock and he choked. Gagged on me. I could feel it before I could hear it, the way the both of us played for power; a squish, swallowing me deeper into the clamp of his greedy throat. 

“Very good, young master.” I liked to vaunt.

His forearm draped along my navel, wrist spilling down my thigh, seeking some sort of comfort as my finger melted deeper into him. Too tight. I adored bringing my finger to my mouth and generously slathering it with the thick of my saliva so that I could savour the taste. That tangy, barely acrid, whispering heat of his. He turned to watch me, pausing my cock inside of his mouth, perking his head to the side as if he was confused. My very own wide-eyed kitten.

“You,” I lick. “ _Mmm,_ ” I hum against the taste on my fingers, “intoxicating.”

His tongue drooled out of his mouth when I found his ass once more, splattering between his lip and my cock. I held his cheeks apart with the nib of thumb and crowded over his hole with my index, allowing it to slosh inside of him.

He fisted the base of my cock, tugging me down, bloating my ballsack, red and gibbous. His mouth, breathing hot air down the slit of my cock. Lower then, just underneath my testicles, with a flick of his hand, like pressing into a pastry. Further even, ghosting toward a spot that he had never before been. 

And I sighed for him. Low, different, new. And it became too much. The absolute gall. And it was tempting not to push against his touch. As I prodded into him and he prodded into me. And it became enough. 

I was naked in an instant, shadows everywhere. I flipped him over. He panicked. He reached for Bitter Rabbit. I dragged him to the edge of the bed by his ankles. He tried to crawl away from me. Shadows. I gargled and laughed, forcing him toward me from his thighs. He hugged Bitter Rabbit to his face. Pink shoulders, connected to a pink back. Bowed spine, blooming hips. A glob of spit, running down the crease of his ass. 

“Audacious boy.” 

He was not ready. I stuffed myself inside of him. So hot. I spanked him. His screams were muffled by Bitter’s belly. He shuddered, stinging from the assertion of my authority.

“Greedy boy.” _Bad boy._

He was not ready. I hated to pull away from him in order to ooze back into him. His ass met my thrusts disgustingly. Puffed up hole, pink as could be. As if he were made just for this, moving like that. Just for me. 

Just for me.

“Yesss,” I seethed, “fuck back. Just like that.”

My hands fisted the duvet on either side of him. Like an ape, reduced to a savage. I used the change of momentum to angle myself directly against the hot, pulsating curve of his prostate. He looked back at me almost fretfully, tear-stained cheek finding solace in the crook of his shoulder, tongue dripping out of his parted mouth.

“Do you like that, young master?”

He could barely keep his eyes open, so hard was I pummeling my cock into his blubbering ass. 

Unable to speak. It was all shallow, breathy, little boy _ah, oooh, ah, ahs._ I clutched onto the nape of his neck and turned him to face the stuffed animal.

“Tell Bitter Rabbit how good you feel.”

He moaned. I moaned. I pulled myself out of him and slid the thick of myself against his pillowy little balls and nibby little cock so that he might have a chance to speak. So that he might say something. So that I wouldn’t come. So that he might tell Bitter Rabbit how good he felt.

His knees buck on instinct. I caught them on instinct. Gathered them so close to me that his feet hiked up and clung to either side of my hips, barely surrounding themselves around the base of my cock. 

He humped himself on me, unwilling to negotiate. “S’good, _bastian_ , so good,” he whined as if he missed me, bringing his feet around my waist, digging his heels into my side, urging me back into him. An unbearable obscenity, he was.

An order.

I willingly complied. His knees dropped to the bed as I lifted his ass up, closer to me.

_Come closer to me young master._

His hole, oh so pink, palpitating itself apart, just for me. Small enough to hide behind my probing thumb, still unready despite the harshest of treatments. My ungiving young master, how I yearned, in that brief moment of shameless insanity, to kill him. _To pilfer._ I plunged myself inside of him. _To mar._ My hand bent his back into a breathless arch. _To ravage._ So tightly did I grip his hips that he could no longer gasp for me. And what a delicious silence it was, licking at my desire to concave his spine and play with his bones.

Until I let him go, and he sung for me once more, and I had never been proven as devastatingly wrong because the sudden release of my choke around his stomach had made him convulse his orgasm around the length of my cock. From in between his legs, come smattered from the tip of his prick onto his belly.

He bit teeth marks into poor Bitter, sobbing into his soft plump, holding onto his paws just as he did earlier that morning. I smiled at the sight, slapping myself against him, entranced by the way his ass bounced back with each and every thrust. 

He would never know that he came from the sheer barbarity of my urge to destroy him. That hateful clench was one I would never unfeel. Such was my reward for the act of depravation. His body began to sag with bliss and I would not have it. I had not yet had my fun.

_My depraved young master, how you torment me so._

Black everywhere: a familiar, distant friend, for a split of a second. The stretch of his ass around my cock. Black shadows, everywhere. I spun him around and laid him flat on his back, legs spread wide enough for me to feast. His scream of sensitivity. Black everywhere, as I blinked him in and out of vision. He hugged massive Bitter Rabbit to his chest so that I would not see his face, tiny arms wrapped around fuzz and fur. Shadows. The liveliness of his cock, springing up and down against his ballsack. 

“None of that,” I told him, black everywhere.

Bitter Rabbit fell to the floor. I fed on the come sticking to his stomach and forced his chin to face me so that he would watch. Blackness. The puncturing of my cock, deep inside, bulging a nub into his belly. In and out, everywhere, so cruel it curved.

I, a demented, filthy demon, came with closed eyes to the very thought of his sleeping face. I, a precocious, starved demon, patiently awaited, as I tilted him just so, for my come to trickle out of him. 

And I would reach down and bite it.

His calves found my neck.

And I would inhale it.

“What are you waiting for, Sebastian?” Questioned my breathless, dripping young master.

And I would wallop my tongue inside of him.

He ushered me closer, gliding his legs across my throat until he could latch himself around my face, thigh on cheek, and thigh on cheek.

And it would taste sweet, like him, and it would taste ill, like me; depravity.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Chrome,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite/) for your wonderful beta.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [teasmudge,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/teasmudge/) where I post more stupid shit.
> 
> Have any of you ever played Super Mario Galaxy? The first or the second one, doesn't matter. Do you remember how giggly a Luma gets when you feed him a starbit? I am a Luma, kudos me a starbit! c;
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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